The  Courtship   of 
Miles   Standish 


Copyright,  1909 
BY   H.  M.  CALDWEU.  Co. 


Contents 


I.    MILES  STANDISH      .     .     .      .  i 

II.     LOVE  AND  FRIENDSHIP       .     .  n 

III.  THE  LOVER'S  ERRAND  ...  22 

IV.  JOHN  ALDEN 39 

V.    THE  SAILING  OF  THE   "  MAY 
FLOWER  " 55 

VI.     PRISCILLA 71 

VII.    THE  MARCH  OF  MILES  STAN- 
DISH      82 

VIII.    THE  SPINNING-WHEEL    ...  94 

IX.    THE  WEDDING-DAY      .     .     .  106 


The   Courtship  of 
Miles   Standish 


MILES   STANDISH 

TN  the  Old  Colony  days,  in  Plymouth 

the  land  of  the  Pilgrims, 
To  and  fro  in  a  room  of  his  simple  and 

primitive  dwelling, 
Clad  in  doublet  and  hose,  and  boots  of 

Cordovan  leather, 
Strode,     with     a     martial     air,     Miles 

Standish  the  Puritan  Captain. 
Buried  in  thought  he  seemed,  with  his 

hands  behind  him,  and  pausing 
Ever  and  anon  to  behold  his  glittering 

weapons  of  warfare, 
i 


•SH  The  Courtship  of 

Hanging    in    shining    array    along    the 

walls  of  the  chamber,  — 
Cutlass  and  corselet  of  steel,  and   his 

trusty  sword  of  Damascus, 
Curved    at    the    point    and    inscribed 

with  its  mystical  Arabic  sentence, 
While    underneath,   in   a   corner,   were 

fowling-piece,  musket,  and  match 
lock. 
Short  of  stature  he  was,  but  strongly 

built  and  athletic, 
Broad   in   the   shoulders,   deep-chested, 

with     muscles      and      sinews      of 

iron; 
Brown  as  a  nut  was  his  face,  but  his 

russet  beard  was  already 
Flaked  with  patches  of  snow,  as  hedges 

sometimes  in  November. 
Near  him  was  seated  John  Alden,  his 

friend   and   household   companion, 

2 


Miles  Standish  H£ 

Writing  with  diligent  speed  at  a  table 
of  pine  by  the  window; 

Fair-haired,  azure-eyed,  with  delicate 
Saxon  complexion, 

Having  the  dew  of  his  youth,  and  the 
beauty  thereof,  as  the  captives 

Whom  Saint  Gregory  saw,  and  ex 
claimed,  "  Not  Angles  but  Angels." 

Youngest  of  all  was  he  of  the  men  who 
came  in  the  Mayflower. 

Suddenly  breaking  the  silence,  the 
diligent  scribe  interrupting, 

Spake,  in  the  pride  of  his  heart,  Miles 
Standish  the  Captain  of  Ply 
mouth. 

"  Look  at  these  arms,"  he  said,  "  the 
warlike  weapons  that  hang  here, 

Burnished  and  bright  and  clean,  as  if 
for  parade  or  inspection! 

3 


•$H  The  .Courtship  of 

This  is  the  sword  of  Damascus  I  fought 
with  in  Flanders;  this  breast 
plate, 

Well  I  remember  the  day!  once  saved 
my  life  in  a  skirmish; 

Here  in  front  you  can  see  the  very  dint 
of  the  bullet 

Fired  point-blank  at  my  heart  by  a 
Spanish  arcabucero. 

Had  it  not  been  of  sheer  steel,  the  for 
gotten  bones  of  Miles  Standish 

Would  at  this  moment  be  mould,  in 
their  grave  in  the  Flemish  mo 
rasses." 

Thereupon  answered  John  Alden,  but 
looked  not  up  from  his  writing: 

"  Truly  the  breath  of  the  Lord  hath 
slackened  the  speed  of  the  bullet; 

He  in  His  mercy  preserved  you,  to  be 
our  shield  and  our  weapon!  " 

4 


Miles  Standish  H£ 

Still  the  Captain  continued,  unheeding 

the  words  of  the  stripling: 
"  See,  how  bright  they  are  burnished, 

as  if  in  an  arsenal  hanging; 
That  is  because  I  have  done  it  myself, 

and  not  left  it  to  others. 
Serve    yourself,    would    you    be    well 

served,  is  an  excellent  adage; 
So  I  take  care  of  my  arms,  as  you  of 

your  pens  and  your  inkhorn. 
Then,  too,  there  are  my  soldiers,  my 

great,  invincible  army, 
Twelve  men,  all  equipped,  having  each 

his  rest  and  his  matchlock, 
Eighteen    shillings    a    month,    together 

with  diet  and  pillage, 
And,  like  Caesar,  I  know  the  name  of 

each  of  my  soldiers!  " 
This  he  said  with  a  smile,  that  danced 

in  his  eyes,  as  the  sunbeams 

5 


•£H  The  Courtship  of 

Dance  on  the  waves  of  the  sea,   and 

vanish  again  in  a  moment. 
Alden   laughed   as   he  wrote,   and   still 

the  Captain  continued: 
"  Look!  you  can  see  from  this  window 

my  brazen  howitzer  planted 
High    on    the    roof   of   the    church,    a 

preacher  who  speaks  to  the  purpose, 
Steady,    straightforward,    and    strong, 

with  irresistible  logic, 
Orthodox,  flashing  conviction  right  into 

the  hearts  of  the  heathen. 
Now  we   are   ready,   I   think,   for   any 

assault  of  the  Indians: 
Let  them  come,  if  they  like,  and  the 

sooner  they  try  it  the  better,  — 
Let  them  come  if  they  like,  be  it  saga 
more,  sachem,  or  pow-wow, 
Aspinet,  Samoset,  Corbitant,  Squanto, 

or  Tokamahamon!  " 
6 


Miles  Standish  g& 

Long  at  the  window  he  stood,  and 

wistfully  gazed  on  the  landscape, 
Washed    with    a    cold    gray    mist,    the 

vapory  breath  of  the  east  wind, 
Forest  and  meadow  and  hill,  and  the 

steel-blue  rim  of  the  ocean, 
Lying  silent  and  sad,  in  the  afternoon 

shadows  and  sunshine. 
Over  his  countenance  flitted  a  shadow 

like  those  on  the  landscape, 
Gloom  intermingled  with  light;   and  his 

voice  was  subdued  with  emotion, 
Tenderness,    pity,    regret,    as    after    a 

pause  he  proceeded: 
"  Yonder  there,  on  the  hill  by  the  sea, 

lies  buried  Rose  Standish; 
Beautiful  rose  of  love,  that  bloomed  for 

me  by  the  wayside! 
She  was  the  first  to  die  of  all  who  came 

in  the  Mayflower  ! 

7 


•$H  The  Courtship  of 

Green  above  her  is  growing  the  field  of 
wheat  we  have  sown  there, 

Better  to  hide  from  the  Indian  scouts 
the  graves  of  our  people, 

Lest  they  should  count  them  and  see 
how  many  already  have  perished!  " 

Sadly  his  face  he  averted,  and  strode 
up  and  down,  and  was  thought 
ful. 

Fixed    to    the    opposite   wall    was    a 
shelf  of  books,  and  among  them 

Prominent  three,  distinguished  alike 
for  bulk  and  for  binding; 

Bariffe's  Artillery  Guide  and  the  Com 
mentaries  of  C&sar, 

Out  of  the  Latin  translated  by  Arthur 
Goldinge  of  London, 

And,  as  if  guarded  by  these,  between 

them  was  standing  the  Bible. 

8 


Miles  Standish  H£ 

Musing  a  moment  before  them,  Miles 

Standish  paused,  as  if  doubtful 
Which  of  the  three  he  should  choose 

for  his  consolation  and  comfort, 
Whether  the  wars  of  the  Hebrews,  the 

famous  campaigns  of  the  Romans, 
Or  the  artillery  practice,  designed  for 

belligerent  Christians. 
Finally  down  from  its  shelf  he  dragged 

the  ponderous  Roman, 
Seated    himself   at    the    window,    and 

opened  the  book,  and  in  silence 
Turned  o'er  the  well-worn  leaves,  where 

thumb-marks  thick  on  the  margin, 
Like  the  trample  of  feet,  proclaimed  the 

battle  was  hottest. 
Nothing  was  heard  in  the  room  but  the 

hurrying  pen  of  the  stripling, 
Busily  writing  epistles  important,  to  go 

by  the  Mayflower, 

9 


•£H  The  Courtship  of 

Ready  to  sail  on  the  morrow,  or  next 

day  at  latest,  God  willing! 
Homeward   bound  with  the  tidings  of 

all  that  terrible  winter, 
Letters  written   by  Alden,  and   full  of 

the  name  of  Priscilla, 
Full  of  the  name  and  the  fame  of  the 

Puritan  maiden  Priscilla! 


10 


Miles  Standish 


II 

LOVE    AND    FRIENDSHIP 

"^TOTHING  was  heard  in  the  room 
but    the    hurrying   pen  of  the 
stripling, 
Or  an  occasional  sigh  from  the  laboring 

heart  of  the  Captain, 
Reading    the    marvellous    words    and 

achievements  of  Julius  Caesar. 
After  a  while  he  exclaimed,  as  he  smote 

with  his  hand,  palm  downwards, 
Heavily  on  the   page:     "  A  wonderful 

man  was  this  Caesar! 
You  are  a  writer,  and  I  am  a  fighter, 
but  here  is  a  fellow 
ii 


•$H  The  Courtship  of 

Who  could  both  write  and  fight,  and  in 

both  was  equally  skilful!  " 
Straightway  answered  and  spake  John 

Alden,  the  comely,  the  youthful: 
"  Yes,  he  was  equally  skilled,  as  you 

say,  with  his  pen  and  his  weapons. 
Somewhere  have  I   read,   but  where  I 

forget,  he  could  dictate 
Seven  letters  at  once,  at  the  same  time 

writing  his  memoirs." 
"  Truly,"   continued   the   Captain,   not 

heeding  or  hearing  the  other, 
"  Truly   a   wonderful    man   was   Caius 

Julius  Caesar! 
Better    be    first,    he    said,    in    a    little 

Iberian  village, 
Than  be  second  in  Rome,  and  I  think 

he  was  right  when  he  said  it. 
Twice  was  he  married   before  he  was 

twenty,  and  many  times  after; 
12 


Miles  Standish  g& 

Battles  five  hundred  he  fought,  and 
a  thousand  cities  he  conquered; 

He,  too,  fought  in  Flanders,  as  he  him 
self  has  recorded; 

Finally  he  was  stabbed  by  his  friend, 
the  orator  Brutus! 

Now,  do  you  know  what  he  did  on  a 
certain  occasion  in  Flanders, 

When  the  rear-guard  of  his  army  re 
treated,  the  front  giving  way  too, 

And  the  immortal  Twelfth  Legion  was 
crowded  so  closely  together 

There  was  no  room  for  their  swords  ? 
Why,  he  seized  a  shield  from  a 
soldier, 

Put  himself  straight  at  the  head  of  his 
troops,  and  commanded  the  cap 
tains, 

Calling  on  each  by  his  name,  to  order 
forward  the  ensigns; 


•$H  The  Courtship  of 

Then    to    widen    the    ranks,   and    give 

more  room  for  their  weapons; 
So  he  won  the  day,  the  battle  of  some- 

thing-or-other. 
That's  what  I  always  say  ;  if  you  wish 

a  thing  to  be  well  done, 
You  must  do  it  yourself,  you  must  not 

leave  it  to  others  1  " 


All   was   silent    again;    the    Captain 

continued  his  reading. 
Nothing  was  heard  in  the  room  but  the 

hurrying  pen  of  the  stripling 
Writing  epistles   important  to  go  next 

day  by  the  Mayflower, 
Filled  with  the  name  and  the  fame  of 

the  Puritan  maiden  Priscilla; 
Every   sentence   began   or   closed   with 

the  name  of  Priscilla, 


Miles  Standish  H£ 

Till  the  treacherous  pen,  to  which  he 

confided  the  secret, 
Strove    to    betray    it    by    singing    and 

shouting  the  name  of  Priscilla! 
Finally  closing  his  book,  with  a   bang 

of  the  ponderous  cover, 
Sudden    and  loud    as    the    sound    of  a 

soldier  grounding  his  musket, 
Thus  to  the  young  man  spake  Miles 

Standish     the     Captain     of     Ply 
mouth  : 
"  When  you  have  finished  your  work,  I 

have  something  important  to  tell 

you. 
Be  not  however  in  haste;    I  can  wait; 

I  shall  not  be  impatient!  " 
Straightway  Alden  replied,  as  he  folded 

the  last  of  his  letters, 
Pushing   his   papers   aside,   and   giving 

respectful  attention: 


$K  The  Courtship  of 

"  Speak;    for  whenever  you   speak,   I 

am  always  ready  to  listen, 
Always  ready  to  hear  whatever  pertains 

to  Miles  Standish." 
Thereupon  answered  the  Captain,  em 
barrassed,  and  culling  his  phrases: 
'  'Tis  not  good  for  a  man  to  be  alone, 

say  the  Scriptures. 
This  I  have  said  before,  and  again  and 

again  I  repeat  it; 
Every  hour  in  the  day,  I  think  it,  and 

feel  it,  and  say  it. 
Since  Rose  Standish  died,  my  life  has 

been  weary  and  dreary; 
Sick  at  heart  have  I  been,  beyond  the 

healing  of  friendship. 
Oft  in  my  lonely  hours  have  I  thought 

of  the  maiden  Priscilla. 
She  is  alone  in  the  world;    her  father 

and  mother  and  brother 
16 


Miles  Standish  £fc 

Died  in  the  winter  together;   I  saw  her 

going  and  coming, 
Now  to  the  grave  of  the  dead,  and  now 

to  the  bed  of  the  dying, 
Patient,    courageous,  and    strong,  and 

said  to  myself,  that  if  ever 
There   were   angels  on  earth,  as  there 

are  angels  in  heaven, 
Two  have  I  seen  and  known;    and  the 

angel  whose  name  is  Priscilla 
Holds    in    my    desolate    life    the    place 

which  the  other  abandoned. 
Long    have    I    cherished    the    thought, 

but  never  have  dared  to  reveal  it, 
Being  a  coward  in  this,  though  valiant 

enough  for  the  most  part. 
Go  to  the  damsel  Priscilla,  the  loveliest 

maiden  of  Plymouth, 
Say  that  a  blunt  old  Captain,  a  man  not 

of  words  but  of  actions, 

17 


•SH  The  Courtship  of 

Offers  his  hand  and  his  heart,  the  hand 

and  heart  of  a  soldier. 
Not  in  these  words,  you  know,  but  this 

in  short  is  my  meaning; 
I  am  a  maker  of  war,  and  not  a  maker 

of  phrases. 
You,  who  are  bred  as  a  scholar,  can  say 

it  in  elegant  language, 
Such  as  you  read  in  your  books  of  the 

pleadings  and  wooings  of  lovers, 
Such  as  you  think  best  adapted  to  win 

the  heart  of  a  maiden." 


When  he  had  spoken,   John   Alden, 

the   fair-haired,   taciturn    stripling, 

All    aghast    at    his    words,    surprised, 

embarrassed,  bewildered, 
Trying  to  mask  his  dismay  by  treating 
the  subject  with  lightness, 
18 


Miles  Standish  £f£ 

Trying  to   smile,    and   yet   feeling   his 

heart  stand  still  in  his  bosom, 
Just   as   a   timepiece   stops   in   a   house 

that  is  stricken  by  lightning, 
Thus  made  answer  and  spake,  or  rather 

stammered  than  answered: 
"  Such  a  message  as  that,  I  am  sure  I 

should  mangle  and  mar  it; 
If  you  would  have  it  well  done,  —  I  am 

only  repeating  your  maxim,  — 
You  must  do  it  yourself,  you  must  not 

leave  it  to  others!  " 
But  with  the  air  of  a  man  whom  nothing 

can  turn  from  his  purpose, 
Gravely  shaking  his  head,  made  answer 

the  Captain  of  Plymouth: 
"  Truly  the  maxim  is  good,  and  I  do 

not  mean  to  gainsay  it; 
But  we  must  use  it  discreetly,  and  not 

waste  powder  for  nothing. 

19 


7H  The  Courtship  of 

Now,  as  I  said  before,  I  was  never  a 

maker  of  phrases. 
I    can    march    up    to    a    fortress    and 

summon  the  place  to  surrender, 
But  march  up  to  a  woman  with  such 

a  proposal,  I  dare  not. 
I'm  not  afraid  of  bullets,  nor  shot  from 

the  mouth  of  a  cannon, 
But    of    a    thundering    '  No! '    point- 
blank  from  the  mouth  of  a  woman, 
That  I  confess  I'm  afraid  of,  nor  am  I 

ashamed  to  confess  it! 
So  you  must  grant  my  request,  for  you 

are  an  elegant  scholar, 
Having  the  graces  of  speech,  and  skill 

in  the  turning  of  phrases." 
Taking  the  hand  of  his  friend,  who  still 

was  reluctant  and  doubtful, 
Holding  it  long  in  his  own,  and  pressing 

it  kindly,  he  added: 
20 


Miles  Standish  H£ 

"  Though  I  have  spoken  thus  lightly, 

yet  deep  is  the  feeling  that  prompts 

me; 
Surely  you  cannot  refuse  what  I   ask 

in  the  name  of  our  friendship!  " 
Then  made  answer  John  Alden:    "The 

name  of  friendship  is  sacred; 
What   you    demand    in    that    name,    I 

have  not  the  power  to  deny  you!  " 
So  the  strong  will  prevailed,  subduing 

and  moulding  the  gentler, 
Friendship    prevailed    over    love,    and 

Alden  went  on  his  errand. 


21 


The  Courtship  of 


III 

THE    LOVER'S    ERRAND 

OO    the    strong    will    prevailed,  and 
Alden  went  on  his  errand, 

Out  of  the  street  of  the  village,  and  into 
the  paths  of  the  forest, 

Into  the  tranquil   woods,  where   blue 
birds  and  robins  were  building 

Towns    in    the    populous    trees,    with 
hanging  gardens  of  verdure, 

Peaceful,  aerial  cities  of  joy  and  affection 
and  freedom. 

All  around  him  was  calm,  but  within 
him  commotion  and  conflict, 

Love  contending  with   friendship,   and 
self  with  each  generous  impulse. 
22 


Miles  Standish  H£ 

To  and  fro  in  his  breast  his  thoughts 

were  heaving  and  dashing, 
As   in   a    foundering   ship,  with   every 

roll  of  the  vessel, 
Washes    the    bitter   sea,    the    merciless 

surge  of  the  ocean! 
"  Must   I    relinquish   it   all,"   he   cried 

with  a  wild  lamentation,  — 
"  Must  I  relinquish  it  all,  the  joy,  the 

hope,  the  illusion  ? 
Was  it  for  this  I  have  loved,  and  waited, 

and  worshipped  in  silence  ? 
Was   it   for  this   I   have   followed   the 

flying  feet  and  the  shadow 
Over   the  wintry   sea,   to   the   desolate 

shores  of  New  England  ? 
Truly  the  heart  is  deceitful,  and  out  of 

its  depths  of  corruption 
Rise,    like    an    exhalation,    the    misty 

phantoms  of  passion; 

23 


•*H  The  Courtship  of 

Angels  of  light  they  seem,  but  are  only 
delusions  of  Satan. 

All  is  clear  to  me  now;  I  feel  it,  I  see 
it  distinctly! 

This  is  the  hand  of  the  Lord;  it  is 
laid  upon  me  in  anger, 

For  I  have  followed  too  much  the 
heart's  desires  and  devices, 

Worshipping  Astaroth  blindly,  and  im 
pious  idols  of  Baal. 

This  is  the  cross  I  must  bear;  the  sin 
and  the  swift  retribution." 

So  through  the  Plymouth  woods  John 
Alden  went  on  his  errand; 

Crossing  the  brook  at  the  ford,  where 
it  brawled  over  pebble  and  shal 
low, 

Gathering  still,  as  he  went,  the  May 
flowers  blooming  around  him, 

24 


Miles  Standish  H£ 

Fragrant,  filling  the  air  with  a  strange 

and  wonderful  sweetness, 
Children  lost  in  the  woods,  and  covered 

with  leaves  in  their  slumber. 
"  Puritan  flowers,"  he  said,  "  and  the 

type  of  Puritan   maidens, 
Modest  and  simple  and  sweet,  the  very 

type  of  Priscilla! 
So  I  will  take  them  to  her;   to  Priscilla 

the  Mayflower   of   Plymouth, 
Modest   and    simple   and   sweet,   as   a 

parting  gift  will  I  take  them; 
Breathing  their  silent  farewells,  as  they 

fade  and  wither  and  perish, 
Soon  to  be  thrown  away  as  is  the  heart 

of  the  giver." 
So  through  the  Plymouth  woods  John 

Alden  went  on  his  errand; 
Came  to  an  open  space,  and  saw  the 

disk  of  the  ocean, 

2S 


•SH  The  Courtship  of 

Sailless,    sombre    and    cold    with    the 

comfortless  breath  of  the  east  wind; 
Saw   the   new-built   house,   and   people 

at  work  in  a  meadow; 
Heard,  as  he  drew  near  the  door,  the 

musical  voice  of  Priscilla 
Singing  the  hundredth  Psalm,  the  grand 

old  Puritan   anthem, 
Music  that  Luther  sang  to  the  sacred 

words  of  the  Psalmist, 
Full   of  the   breath   of  the   Lord,   con 
soling  and  comforting  many. 
Then,  as  he  opened  the  door,  he  beheld 

the  form  of  the  maiden 
Seated  beside  her  wheel,  and  the  carded 

wool  like  a  snow-drift, 
Piled    at    her    knee,    her    white    hands 

feeding  the  ravenous  spindle, 
While  with  her  foot  on  the  treadle  she 

guided  the  wheel  in  its  motion. 
26 


Miles  Standish  H£ 

Open   wide   on   her   lap   lay   the   well- 
worn  psalm-book  of  Ainsworth, 

Printed  in  Amsterdam,  the  words  and 
the  music  together, 

Rough-hewn,  angular  notes,  like  stones 
in  the  wall  of  a  churchyard, 

Darkened  and  overhung  by  the  running 
vine  of  the  verses. 

Such  was  the  book  from    whose   pages 
she  sang  the  old  Puritan  anthem, 

She,  the  Puritan  girl,  in  the  solitude  of 
the  forest, 

Making;    the    humble    house    and    the 

O 

modest  apparel  of  homespun 
Beautiful    with    her    beauty,    and    rich 

with  the  wealth  of  her  being! 
Over  him   rushed,  like  a  wind  that  is 

keen  and  cold  and  relentless, 
Thoughts  of  what  might  have  been,  and 

the  weight  and  woe  of.  his  errand; 
27 


•£H  The  Courtship  of 

All  the  dreams  that  had  faded,  and  all 

the  hopes  that  had  vanished, 
All    his    life    henceforth    a    dreary    and 

tenantless  mansion, 
Haunted    by   vain   regrets,   and    pallid, 

sorrowful  faces. 
Still    he    said    to    himself,   and    almost 

fiercely  he  said  it, 
"  Let  not  him  that  putteth  his  hand  to 

the  plough  look   backwards; 
Though   the    ploughshare   cut   through 

the  flowers  of  life  to  its  fountains, 
Though   it    pass    o'er    the    graves     of 

the   dead    and   the   hearts   of  the 

living, 
It  is    the   will    of  the    Lord;    and    His 

mercy  endureth  forever!  " 

So   he   entered   the   house;    and   the 
hum  of  the  wheel  and  the  singing 
28 


Miles  Standish  H£ 

Suddenly  ceased;    for  Priscilla,  aroused 

by  his  step  on  the  threshold, 
Rose  as  he  entered  and  gave  him  her 

hand,  in  signal  of  welcome, 
Saying,  "  I   knew  it  was  you,  when   I 

heard  your  step  in  the  passage; 
For   I   was   thinking   of  you,   as   I   sat 

there  singing  and  spinning." 
Awkward  and  dumb  with  delight,  that 

a  thought  of  him  had  been  mingled 
Thus  in  the  sacred   Psalm,  that  came 

from  the  heart  of  the  maiden, 
Silent  before  her  he  stood,  and  gave  her 

the  flowers  for  an  answer, 
Finding  no  words  for  his  thought.     He 

remembered  that  day  in  the  winter, 
After   the    first    great     snowr,   when    he 

broke  a  path  from  the  village, 
Reeling  and  plunging  along  through  the 

drifts  that  encumbered  the  doorway, 
29 


•SH  The  Courtship  of 

Stamping  the  snow  from  his  feet  as  he 

entered  the  house,  and  Priscilla 
Laughed  at  his  snowy  locks,  and  gave 

him  a  seat  by  the  fireside, 
Grateful  and  pleased  to  know  he  had 

thought  of  her  in   the  snowstorm. 
Had  he  but  spoken  then!    perhaps  not 

in  vain  had  he  spoken; 
Now   it  was   all   too   late;    the   golden 

moment  had  vanished! 
So  he  stood  there  abashed,  and  gave  her 

the  flowers  for  an  answer. 


Then  they  sat  down  and  talked  of 
the  birds  and  the  beautiful  Spring 
time; 

Talked  of  their  friends  at  home,  and 
the  Mayflower  that  sailed  on  the 
morrow. 

3° 


Miles  Standish  H£ 

"  I  have  been  thinking  all  day,"  said 

gently  the  Puritan  maiden, 
"  Dreaming    all    night,    and    thinking 

all     day,     of    the     hedgerows     of 

England,  — 
They    are    in    blossom    now,    and    the 

country  is  all  like  a  garden; 
Thinking  of  lanes  and  fields,  and  the 

song    of    the    lark    and    the    lin 
net, 
Seeing  the  village  street,  and  familiar 

faces  of  neighbors 
Going  about  as  of  old,  and  stopping  to 

gossip  together, 
And,  at  the  end  of  the  street,  the  village 

church,  with  the  ivy 
Climbing  the  old  gray  tower,  and  the 

quiet  graves  in  the  churchyard. 
Kind   are  the   people   I   live  with,   and 

dear  to  me  my  religion; 


£H  The  Courtship  of 

Still  my  heart  is  so  sad,  that  I  wish 
myself  back  in  Old  England. 

You  will  say  it  is  wrong,  but  I  cannot 
help  it:  I  almost 

Wish  myself  back  in  Old  England,  I 
feel  so  lonely  and  wretched." 


Thereupon      answered      the     youth: 
"  Indeed  I  do  not  condemn  you; 

Stouter  hearts  than  a  woman's  have 
quailed  in  this  terrible  winter. 

Yours  is  tender  and  trusting,  and  needs 
a  stronger  to  lean  on; 

So  I  have  come  to  you  now,  with 
an  offer  and  proffer  of  mar 
riage 

Made  by  a  good  man  and  true,  Miles 
Standish  the  Captain  of  Ply 
mouth!  " 

32 


Miles  Standish  HS- 

Thus  he  delivered  his  message,  the 
dexterous  writer  of  letters,  — 

Did  not  embellish  the  theme,  nor 
array  it  in  beautiful  phrases, 

But  came  straight  to  the  point,  and 
blurted  it  out  like  a  school 
boy; 

Even  the  Captain  himself  could  hardly 
have  said  it  more  bluntly. 

Mute  with  amazement  and  sorrow, 
Priscilla  the  Puritan  maiden 

Looked  into  Alden's  face,  her  eyes 
dilated  with  wonder, 

Feeling  his  words  like  a  blow,  that 
stunned  her  and  rendered  her 
speechless; 

Till  at  length  she  exclaimed,  interrupt 
ing  the  ominous  silence: 

"  If  the  great  Captain  of  Plymouth  is 
so  very  eager  to  wed  me, 

33 


•£H  The  Courtship  of 

Why  does  he  not  come  himself,  and  take 

the  trouble  to  woo  me  ? 
If  I  am  not  worth  the  wooing,  I  surely 

am  not  worth  the  winning!  " 
Then  John  Alden  began  explaining  and 

smoothing  the  matter, 
Making  it  worse  as  he  went,  by  saying 

the  Captain  was  busy,  — 
Had   no  time   for  such   things;  —  such 

things!    the  words  grating  harshly 
Fell  on  the  ear  of  Pnscilla;    and  swift 

as  a  flash  she  made  answer: 
"  Has    he    no   time    for    such     things, 

as  you  call   it,   before   he  is   mar 
ried, 
Would  he  be  likely  to  find  it,  or  make  it, 

after  the  wedding  ? 
That  is  the  way  with  you   men;    you 

don't    understand     us,    you     car*- 

not. 

34 


Miles  Standish  H£ 

When  you  have  made  up  your  minds, 
after  thinking  of  this  one  and  that 
one, 

Choosing,  selecting,  rejecting,  com 
paring  one  with  another, 

Then  you  make  known  your  desire, 
with  abrupt  and  sudden  avowal, 

And  are  offended  and  hurt,  and  in 
dignant  perhaps,  that  a  woman 

Does  not  respond  at  once  to  a  love  that 
she  never  suspected, 

Does  not  attain  at  a  bound  the  height 
to  which  you  have  been  climb 
ing. 

This  is  not  right  nor  just:  for  surely 
a  woman's  affection 

Is  not  a  thing  to  be  asked  for,  and  had 
for  only  the  asking. 

When  one  is  truly  in  love,  one  not  only 
says  it  but  shows  it. 

35 


•SH  The  Courtship  of 

Had  he  but  waited  awhile,  had  he  only 

showed  that  he  loved  me, 
Even     this     Captain     of    yours  —  who 

knows  ?  —  at  last  might  have  won 

me, 
Old  and  rough  as  he  is;    but  now  it 

never  can  happen." 

Still  John  Alden  went  on,  unheeding 

the  words  of  Priscilla, 
Urging  the  suit  of  his  friend,  explaining, 

persuading,  expanding; 
Spoke  of  his  courage  and  skill,  and  of 

all  his  battles  in  Flanders, 
How  with  the  people  of  God  he  had 

chosen  to  suffer  affliction, 
How,  in  return  for  his  zeal,  they  had 

made  him  Captain  of  Plymouth; 
He  was  a  gentleman  born,  could  trace 

his  pedigree  plainly 

36 


Miles  Standish  H£ 

Back   to    Hugh    Standish    of  Duxbury 

Hall,  in  Lancashire,  England, 
Who  was  the   son  of  Ralph,   and  the 

grandson  of  Thurston  de  Standish; 
Heir  unto  vast  estates,  of  which  he  was 

basely  defrauded, 
Still  bore  the  family  arms,  and  had  for 

his  crest  a  cock  argent, 
Combed  and  wattled  gules,  and  all  the 

rest  of  the  blazon. 
He  was  a  man  of  honor,  of  noble  and 

generous  nature; 
Though  he  was  rough,  he  was  kindly; 

she  knew  how  during  the  winter 
He  had  attended  the  sick,  with  a  hand 

as  gentle  as  woman's; 
Somewhat  hasty  and  hot,  he  could  not 

deny  it,  and  headstrong, 
Stern  as  a  soldier  might  be,  but  hearty, 

and  placable  always, 

37 


•£H  The  Courtship  of 

Not  to  be  laughed  at  and  scorned, 
because  he  was  little  of  stature; 

For  he  was  great  of  heart,  magnani 
mous,  courtly,  courageous; 

Any  woman  in  Plymouth,  nay,  any 
woman  in  England, 

Might  be  happy  and  proud  to  be  called 
the  wife  of  Miles  Standish! 

But   as  he  warmed   and   glowed,  in 

his  simple  and  eloquent  language, 
Quite  forgetful  of  self,  and  full  of  the 

praise  of  his  rival, 
Archly  the   maiden   smiled,   and,  with 

eyes  overrunning  with  laughter, 
Said,  in  a  tremulous  voice,  "  Why  don't 

you  speak  for  yourself,  John  ?  " 


Miles  Standish  % 


IV 

JOHN   ALDEN 

TNTO  the  open  air  John  Alden,  per 
plexed  and  bewildered, 

Rushed  like  a  man  insane,  and  wan 
dered  alone  by  the  seaside; 

Paced  up  and  down  the  sands,  and  bared 
his  head  to  the  east  wind, 

Cooling  his  heated  brow,  and  the  fire 
and  fever  within  him. 

Slowly,  as  out  of  the  heavens,  with 
apocalyptical  splendors, 

Sank  the  City  of  God,  in  the  vision  of 
John  the  Apostle, 

So,  with  its  cloudy  walls  of  chrysolite, 
jasper,  and  sapphire, 

39 


•£H  The  Courtship  of 

Sank  the  broad  red  sun,  and  over  its 

turrets  uplifted 
Glimmered  the  golden  reed  of  the  angel 

who  measured  the  city. 

"  Welcome,  O  wind  of  the  East!  " 
he  exclaimed  in  his  wild  exultation, 

"  Welcome,  O  wind  of  the  East,  from 
the  caves  of  the  misty  Atlantic! 

Blowing  o'er  fields  of  dulse,  and 
measureless  meadows  of  sea-grass, 

Blowing  o'er  rocky  wastes,  and  the 
grottos  and  gardens  of  ocean! 

Lay  the  cold,  moist  hand  on  my  burn 
ing  forehead,  and  wrap  me 

Close  in  thy  garments  of  mist,  to  allay 
the  fever  within  me!  " 

Like  an  awakened  conscience,  the  sea 
was  moaning  and  tossing, 
40 


Miles  Standish  H£ 

Beating  remorseful  and  loud  the  mu 
table  sands  of  the  seashore. 

Fierce  in  his  soul  was  the  struggle  and 
tumult  of  passions  contending; 

Love  triumphant  and  crowned,  and 
friendship  wounded  and  bleed 
ing* 

Passionate  cries  of  desire,  and  impor 
tunate  pleadings  of  duty! 

"  Is  it  my  fault,"  he  said,  "  that  the 
maiden  has  chosen  between  us  ? 

Is  it  my  fault  that  he  failed,  —  my  fault 
that  I  am  the  victor  ?  " 

Then  within  him  there  thundered  a 
voice,  like  the  voice  of  the  Prophet: 

"  It  hath  displeased  the  Lord!  "  —  and 
he  thought  of  David's  transgres 
sion, 

Bathsheba's  beautiful  face,  and  his 
friend  in  the  front  of  the  battle! 


•yH  The  Courtship  of 

Shame  and  confusion  of  guilt,  and 
abasement  and  self-condemnation 

Overwhelmed  him  at  once;  and  he 
cried  in  the  deepest  contrition: 

"  It  hath  displeased  the  Lord!  It  is 
the  temptation  of  Satan!  " 

Then,  uplifting  his  head,  he  looked 
at  the  sea,  and  beheld  there 

Dimly  the  shadowy  form  of  the  May 
flower  riding  at  anchor, 

Rocked  on  the  rising  tide,  and  ready 
to  sail  on  the  morrow; 

Heard  the  voices  of  men  through  the 
mist,  the  rattle  of  cordage 

Thrown  on  the  deck,  the  shouts  of  the 
mate,  and  the  sailors'  "  Ay,  ay, 
Sir!  " 

Clear  and  distinct,  but  not  loud,  in  the 
dripping  air  of  the  twilight. 


Miles  Standish  H£ 

Still  for  a  moment  he  stood,  and  listened, 

and  stared  at  the  vessel, 
Then  went  hurriedly  on,  as  one  who, 

seeing  a  phantom, 
Stops,    then    quickens    his    pace,    and 

follows  the  beckoning  shadow. 
'  Yes,  it  is  plain  to  me  now,"  he  mur 
mured;    "  the  hand  of  the  Lord  is 
Leading  me  out  of  the  land  of  darkness, 

the  bondage  of  error, 
Through  the  sea,  that  shall  lift  the  walls 

of  its  waters  around  me, 
Hiding   me,   cutting   me   off,   from   the 

cruel  thoughts  that  pursue  me. 
Back    will    I    go    o'er   the    ocean,    this 

dreary  land  will  abandon, 
Her  whom  I  may  not  love,  and  him 

whom  my  heart  has  offended. 
Better  to  be  in  my  grave  in  the  green 

old  churchyard  in  England, 

43 


•£H  The  Courtship  of 

Close  by  my  mother's  side,  and  among 

the  dust  of  my  kindred; 
Better    be    dead    and    forgotten,    than 

living  in  shame  and  dishonor! 
Sacred  and  safe  and  unseen,  in  the  dark 

of  the  narrow  chamber 
With    me    my    secret    shall    lie,    like    a 

buried  jewel  that  glimmers 
Bright  on  the  hand  that  is  dust,  in  the 

chambers  of  silence  and  darkness, — 
Yes,  as  the  marriage  ring  of  the  great 

espousal  hereafter!  " 


Thus  as  he  spake,  he  turned,  in  the 
strength  of  his  strong  resolution, 

Leaving  behind  him  the  shore,  and 
hurried  along  in  the  twilight, 

Through  the  congenial  gloom  of  the 
forest  silent  and  sombre, 

44 


Miles  Standish  Hf 

Till  he  beheld  the  lights  in  the  seven 

houses  of  Plymouth, 
Shining  like  seven  stars  in  the  dusk  and 

mist  of  the  evening. 
Soon  he  entered  his  door,  and  found  the 

redoubtable  Captain 
Sitting    alone,    and    absorbed    in    the 

O  7 

martial  pages  of  Caesar, 
Fighting  some  great  campaign  in  Hai- 

nault  or  Brabant  or  Flanders. 
"  Long  have  you  been  on  your  errand," 

he  said  with  a  cheery  demeanor, 
Even  as  one  who  is  waiting  an  answer, 

and  fears  not  the  issue. 
"  Not   far   off  is   the    house,    although 

the  woods  are  between  us; 
But   you    have    lingered    so   long,   that 

while  you  were  going  and  coming 
I   have  fought  ten   battles   and   sacked 

and  demolished  a  city. 

45 


•7^4  The  Courtship  of 

Come,  sit  down,  and  in  order  relate  to 
me  all  that  has  happened." 

Then  John  Alden  spake,  and  related 

the  wondrous  adventure 
From  beginning  to  end,  minutely,  just 

as  it  happened; 
How  he  had  seen  Priscilla,  and  how  he 

had  sped  in  his  courtship, 
Only  smoothing  a  little,  and  softening 

down  her  refusal. 
But  when   he  came    at   length    to   the 

words  Priscilla  had  spoken, 
Words  so  tender  and  cruel,  "  Why  don't 

you  speak  for  yourself,  John  ?  " 
Up   leaped   the   Captain   of  Plymouth, 

and  stamped  on  the  floor,  till  his 

armor 
Clanged   on   the  wall,  where  it   hung, 

with  a  sound  of  sinister  omen. 
46 


Miles  Standish  H£ 

All  his  pent-up  wrath  burst  forth  in  a 

sudden  explosion, 
E'en   as   a   hand-grenade,  that  scatters 

destruction  around  it. 
Wildly  he  shouted,  and  loud :    "  John 

Alden!    you  have  betrayed  me! 
Me,  Miles  Standish,  your  friend!    have 

supplanted,     defrauded,     betrayed 

me! 
One   of  my   ancestors    ran    his   sword 

through  the  heart  of  Wat  Tyler; 
Who  shall  prevent  me  from  running  my 

own  through  the  heart  of  a  traitor  ? 
Yours  is  the  greater  treason,  for  yours 

is  a  treason  to  friendship! 
You,  who  lived  under  my  roof,  whom  I 

cherished  and  loved  as  a  brother; 
You,  who  have  fed  at  my  board,  and 

drunk     at     my    cup,     to     whose 

keeping 

47 


•?H  The  Courtship  of 

I  have  intrusted  my  honor,  my  thoughts 

the  most  sacred  and  secret,  — 
You  too,  Brutus!    ah,  woe  to  the  name 

of  friendship  hereafter! 
Brutus   was    Caesar's    friend,    and   you 

were  mine,  but  henceforward 
Let  there  be  nothing  between  us  save 

war,  and  implacable  hatred!  " 


So  spake  the  Captain  of  Plymouth, 

and  strode  about  in  the  chamber, 
Chafing  and   choking  with   rage;    like 

cords  were  the  veins  on  his  temples. 
But  in  the  midst  of  his  anger  a   man 

appeared  at  the  doorway, 
Bringing  in  uttermost  haste  a  message 

of  urgent  importance, 
Rumors  of  danger  and  war  and  hostile 

incursions  of  Indians! 

48 


Miles  Standish  H£ 

Straightway  the  Captain  paused,  and, 

without       further       question      or 

parley, 
Took   from   the   nail   on   the   wall   his 

sword  with  its  scabbard  of  iron, 
Buckled  the  belt  round  his  waist,  and, 

frowning  fiercely,  departed. 
Alden  was   left   alone.     He  heard  the 

clank  of  the  scabbard 
Growing  fainter  and  fainter,  and  dying 

away  in  the  distance. 
Then  he  arose  from  his  seat,  and  looked 

forth  into  the  darkness, 
Felt  the   cool   air   blow  on   his   cheek, 

that  was  hot  with  the  insult, 
Lifted    his    eyes   to   the    heavens,   and, 

folding    his    hands     as    in    child 
hood, 
Prayed   in  the  silence  of  night  to  the 

Father  who  seeth  in  secret. 

49 


•^  The  Courtship  of 

Meanwhile     the     choleric     Captain 

strode    wrathful      away    to      the 

Council, 
Found  it  already  assembled,  impatiently 

waiting  his  coming; 
Men  in  the  middle  of  life,  austere  and 

grave  in  deportment, 
Only  one  of  them  old,  the  hill  that  was 

nearest  to  heaven, 

Covered  wifh  snow,  but  erect,  the  ex 
cellent  Elder  of  Plymouth. 
God    had    sifted     three    kingdoms    to 

find    the    wheat    for    this    plant 
ing* 
Then    had    sifted    the    wheat,    as    the 

living  seed  of  a  nation; 
So  say  the  chronicles  old,  and  such  is 

the  faith  of  the  people! 
Near   them   was    standing   an    Indian, 

in  attitude  stern  and  defiant, 

5° 


Miles  Standish  Hr 

Naked   down   to   the  waist,   and   grim 

and  ferocious  in  aspect; 
While   on   the  table   before   them  was 

lying  unopened  a  Bible, 
Ponderous,    bound    in    leather,    brass- 
studded,  printed  in  Holland, 
And  beside  it  outstretched  the  skin  of 

a  rattlesnake  glittered, 
Filled,  like  a   quiver,  with   arrows:    a 

signal  and  challenge  of  warfare, 
Brought  by  the  Indian,  and  speaking 

with  arrowy  tongues  of  defiance. 
This     Miles     Standish    beheld,    as    he 

entered,  and  heard  them  debating 
What    were    an    answer    befitting    the 

hostile  message  and  menace, 
Talking  of  this  and  of  that,  contriving, 

suggesting,  objecting; 
One   voice   only   for   peace,    and   that 

the  voice  of  the  Elder, 


•£H  The  Courtship  of 

Judging  it  wise  and  well  that  some  at 

least  were  converted, 
Rather   than   any  were  slain,   for  this 

was  but  Christian  behavior! 
Then    out   spake    Miles    Standish,   the 

stalwart  Captain  of  Plymouth, 
Muttering  deep  in   his  throat,  for  his 

voice  was  husky  with  anger, 
"  What!  do  you  mean  to  make  war  with 

milk  and  the  water  of  roses  ? 
Is  it  to  shoot  red  squirrels  you  have 

your  howitzer  planted 
There  on  the  roof  of  the  church,  or  is 

it  to  shoot  red  devils  ? 
Truly  the  only  tongue  that  is  under 
stood  by  a  savage 
Must  be  the  tongue  of  fire  that  speaks 

from  the  mouth  of  the  cannon!  " 
Thereupon     answered     and     said     the 

excellent  Elder  of  Plymouth, 

52 


Miles  Standish  H£ 

Somewhat    amazed    and    alarmed    at 

this  irreverent  language: 
"  Not  so  thought  Saint  Paul,  nor  yet 

the  other  Apostles; 
Not    from    the    cannon's    mouth    were 

the  tongues  of  fire  they  spake  with ! " 
But  unheeded  fell  this  mild  rebuke  on 

the  Captain, 
Who  had  advanced  to  the  table,  and 

thus  continued  discoursing: 
"  Leave   this  matter  to  me,  for  to  me 

by  right  it  pertaineth. 
War   is    a    terrible   trade;     but   in   the 

cause  that  is  righteous, 
Sweet   is   the    smell    of  powder;     and 

thus  I  answer  the  challenge!  " 

r/ 

Then  from  the  rattlesnake's  skin, 
with  a  sudden,  contemptuous 
gesture, 

53 


£H  The  Courtship  of 

Jerking   the    Indian    arrows,    he    filled 

it  with  powder  and  bullets 
Full  to  the  very  jaws,  and  handed  it 

back  to  the  savage, 
Saying,  in  thundering  tones:     "Here. 

take  it!    this  is  your  answer!  " 
Silently  out   of  the    room   then   glided 

the  glistening  savage, 
Bearing  the  serpent's  skin,  and  seeming 

himself  like  a  serpent, 
Winding  his  sinuous  way  in  the  dark 

to  the  depths  of  the  forest. 


54 


Miles  Standish  HS- 
V 

THE     SAILING    OF    THE    "  MAYFLOWER  " 

JUST  in  the  gray  of  the  dawn,  as  the 
mists  uprose  from  the  meadows, 
There  was  a  stir  and  a  sound  in  the 

slumbering  village  of  Plymouth; 
Clanging  and  clicking  of  arms,  and  the 

order  imperative,   "  Forward!  " 
Given  in  tone  suppressed,  a  tramp  of 

feet,  and  then  silence. 
Figures    ten,    in    the    mist,    marched 

slowly  out  of  the  village. 
Standish  the  stalwart  it  was,  with  eight 

of  his  valorous  army, 
Led  by  their  Indian  guide,  by  Hobo- 

mok,  friend  of  the  white  men, 

55 


•£H  The  Courtship  of 

Northward  marching  to  quell  the  sud 
den  revolt  of  the  savage. 

Giants  they  seemed  in  the  mist,  or  the 
mighty  men  of  King  David; 

Giants  in  heart  they  were,  who  be 
lieved  in  God  and  the  Bible,  — 

Ay,  who  believed  in  the  smiting  of 
Midianites  and  Philistines. 

Over  them  gleamed  far  off  the  crimson 
banners  of  morning; 

Under  them  loud  on  the  sands,  the 
serried  billows,  advancing, 

Fired  along  the  line,  and  in  regular 
order  retreated. 


Many  a  mile  had  they  marched,  when 

at  length  the  village  of  Plymouth 
Woke  from  its  sleep,  and  arose,  intent 
on  its  manifold  labors. 

56 


Miles  Standish  H£ 

Sweet  was  the  air  and  soft;   and  slowly 

the  smoke  from  the  chimneys 
Rose   over    the    roofs   of    thatch,    and 

pointed  steadily  eastward; 
Men   came   forth  from  the  doors,  and 

paused  and  talked  of  the  weather, 
Said  that  the  wind  had  changed,  and 

was  blowing  fair  for  the  Mayflower; 
Talked    of  their    Captain's    departure, 

and  all  the  dangers  that  menaced, 
He    being   gone,   the   town,    and   what 

should  be  done  in  his  absence. 
Merrily  sang  the  birds,  and  the  tender 

voices  of  women 
Consecrated  with   hymns  the  common 

cares  of  the  household. 
Out  of  the  sea  rose  the  sun,  and  the 

billows  rejoiced  at  his  coming; 
Beautiful  were  his  feet  on  the  purple 

tops  of  the  mountains; 

57 


£K   The  Courtship  of 

Beautiful  on  the  sails  of  the  Mayflower 

riding  at  anchor, 
Battered   and   blackened  and  worn  by 

all  the  storms  of  the  winter. 
Loosely  against  her  masts  was  hanging 

and  flapping  her  canvas, 
Rent   by  so  many  gales,  and   patched 

by  the  hands  of  the  sailors. 
Suddenly  from  her  side,  as  the  sun  rose 

over  the  ocean, 
Darted   a   puff  of  smoke,   and   floated 

seaward;   anon  rang 
Loud  over  field  and  forest  the  cannon's 

roar,  and  the  echoes 
Heard    and    repeated    the    sound,    the 

signal-gun  of  departure! 
Ah!     but    with    louder    echoes    replied 

the  hearts  of  the  people! 
Meekly,  in  voices  subdued,  the  chapter 

was  read  from  the  Bible, 

58 


Miles  Standish  H£ 

Meekly  the  prayer  was  begun,  but 
ended  in  fervent  entreaty! 

Then  from  their  houses  in  haste  came 
forth  the  Pilgrims  of  Plymouth, 

Men  and  women  and  children,  all  hurry 
ing  down  to  the  seashore, 

Eager,  with  tearful  eyes,  to  say  farewell 
to  the  Mayflower, 

Homeward  bound  o'er  the  sea,  and 
leaving  them  here  in  the  desert. 

Foremost  among  them    was    Alden. 

All    night    he    had    lain    without 

slumber, 
Turning  and  tossing  about  in  the  heat 

and  unrest  of  his  fever. 
He    had    beheld    Miles    Standish,   who 

came  back  late  from  the  council, 
Stalking  into  the  room,  and  heard  him 

mutter  and  murmur, 

59 


•£H  The  Courtship  of 

Sometimes    it    seemed    a    prayer,   and 

sometimes  it  sounded  like  swearing. 
Once  he  had  come  to  the  bed,  and  stood 

there  a  moment  in  silence; 
Then  he  had  turned  away,  and  said: 

"  I  will  not  awake  him: 
Let  him  sleep  on,  it  is  best;    for  what 

is  the  use  of  more  talking!  ' 
Then    he    extinguished    the    light,    and 

threw      himself      down      on       his 

pallet, 
Dressed  as  he  was,  and  ready  to  start 

at  the  break  of  the  morning,  — 
Covered    himself    with    the    cloak    he 

had    worn    in    his    campaigns    in 

Flanders,  — 
Slept  as  a  soldier  sleeps  in  his  bivouac, 

ready  for  action. 
But  with   the   dawn   he   arose;    in   the 

twilight  Alden  beheld  him 
60 


Miles  Standish  £f£ 

Put  on  his  corselet  of  steel,  and  all  the 

rest  of  his  armor, 
Buckle  about  his  waist  his  trusty  blade 

of  Damascus, 
Take  from  the  corner  his  musket,  and 

so  stride  out  of  the  chamber. 
Often    the    heart    of    the    youth    had 

burned   and   yearned   to   embrace 

him, 
Often   his   lips   had   essayed  to  speak, 

imploring  for  pardon; 
All  the  old  friendship  came  back  with 

its  tender  and  grateful  emotions; 
But  his  pride  overmastered  the  nobler 

nature  within  him,  — 
Pride,    and    the    sense    of  his   wrong, 

and     the     burning     fire     of     the 

insult. 
So   he   beheld   his   friend   departing  in 

anger,  but  spake  not, 
61 


•SH  The  Courtship  of 

Saw  him  go  forth  to  danger,  perhaps 
to  death,  and  he  spake  not! 

Then  he  arose  from  his  bed,  and  heard 
what  the  people  were  saying, 

Joined  in  the  talk  at  the  door,  with 
Stephen  and  Richard  and  Gilbert, 

Joined  in  the  morning  prayer,  and  in 
the  reading  of  Scripture, 

And,  with  the  others,  in  haste  went 
hurrying  down  to  the  seashore, 

Down  to  the  Plymouth  Rock,  that  had 
been  to  their  feet  as  a  doorstep 

Into  a  world  unknown,  —  the  corner 
stone  of  a  nation! 


There  with  his  boat  was  the  Master, 

already  a  little  impatient 
Lest   he   should   lose   the   tide,   or  the 
wind  might  shift  to  the  eastward, 
62 


Miles  Standish  H£ 

Square-built,  hearty,  and  strong,  with 

an  odor  of  ocean  about  him, 
Speaking  with  this  one  and  that,  and 

cramming  letters  and  parcels 
Into  his   pockets  capacious,  and   mes 
sages  mingled  together 
Into  his  narrow  brain,  till  at  last  he 

was  wholly  bewildered. 
Nearer  the  boat  stood  Alden,  W7ith  one 

foot  placed  on  the  gunwale, 
One  still  firm  on  the  rock,  and  talking 

at  times  with  the  sailors, 
Seated  erect  on  the  thwarts,  all  ready 

and  eager  for  starting. 
He  too  was  eager  to  go,  and  thus  put 

an  end  to  his  anguish, 
Thinking    to    fly    from    despair,    that 

swifter  than  keel  is  or  canvas, 
Thinking  to  drown  in  the  sea  the  ghost 

that  would  rise  and  pursue  him. 

63 


•$H  The  Courtship  of 

But  as  he  gazed  on  the  crowd,  he 
beheld  the  form  of  Priscilla 

Standing  dejected  among  them,  un 
conscious  of  all  that  was  passing. 

Fixed  were  her  eyes  upon  his,  as  if  she 
divined  his  intention, 

Fixed  with  a  look  so  sad,  so  reproach 
ful,  imploring,  and  patient, 

That  with  a  sudden  revulsion  his  heart 
recoiled  from  its  purpose, 

As  from  the  verge  of  a  crag,  where  one 
step  more  is  destruction. 

Strange  is  the  heart  of  man,  with  its 
quick,  mysterious  instincts! 

Strange  is  the  life  of  man,  and  fatal  or 
fated  are  moments, 

Whereupon  turn,  as  on  hinges,  the 
gates  of  the  wall  adamantine! 

"  Here  I  remain!  "  he  exclaimed,  as  he 
looked  at  the  heavens  above  him, 
64 


Miles  Standish  H£ 

Thanking  the  Lord  whose  breath  had 

scattered  the  mist  and  the  madness, 
Wherein,   blind   and   lost,  to   death   he 

was  staggering  headlong. 
'  Yonder  snow-white  cloud,  that  floats 

in  the  ether  above  me, 
Seems   like   a    hand   that   is    pointing, 

and  beckoning  over  the  ocean. 
There  is  another  hand,  that  is  not  so 

spectral  and  ghost-like, 
Holding    me,    drawing    me    back,    and 

clasping  mine  for  protection. 
Float,   O   hand   of  cloud,    and   vanish 

away  in  the  ether! 
Roll  thyself  up  like  a  fist,  to  threaten 

and  daunt  me;    I  heed  not 
Either  your  warning  or  menace,  or  any 

omen  of  evil! 
There  is  no  land  so  sacred,  no  air  so 

pure  and  so  wholesome, 

65 


•£K  The  Courtship  of 

As  is  the  air  she  breathes,  and  the  soil 

that  is  pressed  by  her  footsteps. 
Here  for  her  sake  will  I  stay,  and  like 

an  invisible  presence 
Hover  around  her  forever,  protecting, 

supporting  her  weakness; 
Yes!     as    my   foot   was   the    first   that 

stepped  on  this  rock  at  the  landing, 
So  with  the  blessing  of  God,  shall  it 

be  the  last  at  the  leaving!  " 


Meanwhile    the    Master    alert,    but 
with  dignified  air  and  important, 
Scanning   with   watchful    eye   the   tide 

and  the  wind  and  the  weather, 
Walked   about  on   the  sands,   and  the 

people  crowded  around  him 
Saying  a  few  last  words,  and  enforcing 
his  careful  remembrance. 
66 


Miles  Standish  H£ 

Then,  taking  each  by  the  hand,  as  if 

he  were  grasping  a  tiller, 
Into  the  boat  he  sprang,  and  in  haste 

shoved  off  to  his  vessel, 
Glad  in  his  heart  to  get  rid  of  all  this 

worry  and  flurry, 
Glad  to  be  gone  from  a  land  of  sand 

and  sickness  and  sorrow, 
Short  allowance  of  victual,  and  plenty 

of  nothing  but  Gospel! 
Lost  in  the  sound  of  the  oars  was  the 

last  farewell  of  the  Pilgrims. 
O  strong  hearts  and  true!  not  one  went 

back  in  the  Mayflower ! 
No,  not  one  looked  back,  who  had  set 

his  hand  to  this  ploughing! 


Soon  were  heard  on  board  the  shouts 
and  songs  of  the  sailors 

67 


3H  The  Courtship  of 

Heaving  the  windlass  round,  and  hoist 
ing  the  ponderous  anchor. 

Then  the  yards  were  braced,  and  all 
sails  set  to  the  westwind, 

Blowing  steady  and  strong;  and  the 
Mayflower  sailed  from  the  harbor, 

Rounded  the  point  of  the  Gurnet,  and 
leaving  far  to  the  southward 

Island  and  cape  of  sand,  and  the 
Field  of  the  First  Encounter, 

Took  the  wind  on  her  quarter,  and  stood 
for  the  open  Atlantic, 

Borne  on  the  send  of  the  sea,  and  the 
swelling  hearts  of  the  Pilgrims. 


Long   in    silence    they   watched    the 

receding  sail  of  the  vessel, 
Much  endeared  to  them  all,  as  some 
thing  living  and  human; 
68 


Miles  Standish  H£ 

Then,  as  if   filled  with   the  spirit,  and 

wrapt  in  a  vision  prophetic, 
Baring  his   hoary   head,   the   excellent 

Elder  of  Plymouth 
Said,  "  Let  us  pray!  "  and  they  prayed, 

and   thanked   the   Lord   and   took 

courage. 
Mournfully  sobbed  the  waves  at  the  base 

of  the  rock,  and  above  them 
Bowed    and    whispered    the   wheat    on 

the  hill  of  death,  and  their  kindred 
Seemed  to  awake  in  their  graves,  and 

to    join    in    the    prayer    that    they 

uttered. 
Sun-illumined  and  white,  on  the  eastern 

verge  of  the  ocean 
Gleamed     the     departing    sail,    like    a 

marble  slab  in  a  graveyard; 
Buried  beneath  it  lay  forever  all  hope 

of  escaping. 

69 


•£H  The  Courtship  of 

Lo!   as  they  turned  to  depart,  they  saw 

the  form  of  an  Indian, 
Watching  them  from  the  hill;  but  while 

they  spake  with  each  other, 
Pointing  with  outstretched  hands,  and 

saying,  "  Look!  "  he  had  vanished. 
So  they  returned  to  their  homes;    but 

Alden  lingered  a  little, 
Musing  alone  on  the  shore,  and  watch 
ing  the  wash  of  the   billows 
Round  the  base  of  the  rock,  and  the 

sparkle  and  flash  of  the  sunshine, 
Like  the  spirit  of  God,  moving  visibly 

over  the  waters. 


70 


Miles  Standish 


VI 

PRISCILLA 

'  I^HUS    for  a   while   he   stood,   and 
mused    by    the   shore    of   the 
ocean, 
Thinking  of  many  things,  and  most  of 

all  of  Priscilla; 
And  as  if  thought  had  the  power  to 

draw  to  itself,  like  the  loadstone, 
Whatsoever  it  touches,  by  subtile  laws 

of  its  nature, 
Lo!    as  he  turned  to  depart,  Priscilla 

was  standing  beside  him. 

"  Are  you  so  much  offended,  you  will 
not  speak  to  me  ?  "  said  she. 


•£H  The  Courtship  of 

"  Am  I  so  much  to  blame,  that  yester 
day,  when  you  were  pleading 

Warmly  the  cause  of  another,  my  heart, 
impulsive  and  wayward, 

Pleaded  your  own,  and  spake  out, 
forgetful  perhaps  of  decorum  ? 

Certainly  you  can  forgive  me  for  speak 
ing  so  frankly,  for  saying 

What  I  ought  not  to  have  said,  yet 
now  I  can  never  unsay  it; 

For  there  are  moments  in  life,  when  the 
heart  is  so  full  of  emotion, 

That  if  by  chance  it  be  shaken,  or 
into  its  depths  like  a  pebble 

Drops  some  careless  word,  it  overflows, 
and  its  secret, 

Spilt  on  the  ground  like  water,  can  never 
be  gathered  together. 

Yesterday  I  was  shocked,  when  I 
heard  you  speak  of  Miles  Standish, 

7- 


Miles  Standish  H£ 

Praising  his   virtues,  transforming  his 

very  defects  into  virtues, 
Praising  his  courage  and  strength,  and 

even  his  fighting  in  Flanders, 
As  if  by  fighting  alone  you  could  win 

the  heart  of  a  woman, 
Quite  overlooking  yourself  and  the  rest, 

in  exalting  your  hero. 
Therefore    I    spake    as    I    did,    by   an 

irresistible  impulse. 
You  will   forgive   me,  I   hope,  for  the 

sake    of    the    friendship     between 

us, 
Which  is  too  true  and  too  sacred  to  be 

so  easily  broken!  " 
Thereupon    answered  John  Alden,  the 

scholar,     the      friend      of     Miles 

Standish  : 
"  I  was  not  angry  with  you,  with  myself 

alone  I  was  angry, 

73 


•£H  The  Courtship  of 

Seeing  how  badly  I  managed  the  matter 

I  had  in  my  keeping." 
"  No!  "   interrupted   the    maiden,   with 

answer  prompt  and  decisive; 
"  No;    you   were    angry  with    me,  for 

speaking  so  frankly  and  freely. 
It  was  wrong,  I  acknowledge;  for  it  is 

the  fate  of  a  woman 
Long  to  be  patient  and  silent,  to  wait 

like  a  ghost  that  is  speechless, 
Till    some    questioning   voice    dissolves 

the  spell  of  its  silence. 
Hence   is    the    inner   life   of  so    many 

suffering  women 
Sunless     and     silent     and     deep,     like 

subterranean  rivers 
Running  through  caverns  of  darkness, 

unheard,    unseen,    and    unfruitful, 
Chafing  their  channels   of  stone,  with 

endless    and    profitless    murmurs." 

74 


Miles  Standish  H£ 

Thereupon   answered  John  Alden,  the 

young  man,  the  lover  of  women: 
"  Heaven  forbid  it,  Priscilla;   and  truly 

they  seem  to  me  always 
More    like    the    beautiful    rivers    that 

watered  the  garden  of  Eden, 
More  like  the  river  Euphrates,  through 

deserts  of  Havilah  flowing, 
Filling    the    land    with     delight,    and 

memories  sweet  of  the  garden!  " 
"  Ah,  by  these  words,  I  can  see,"  again 

interrupted  the  maiden, 
"  How  very  little  you  prize  me,  or  care 

for  what  I  am  saying. 
When  from  the  depths  of  my  heart,  in 

pain  and  with  secret  misgiving, 
Frankly    I    speak    to   you,    asking    for 

sympathy  only  and  kindness, 
Straightway  you  take  up  my  words,  that 

are  plain  and  direct  and  in  earnest, 

75 


•£H  The  Courtship  of 

Turn  them  away  from  their  meaning, 

and  answer  with  flattering  phrases. 
This   is   not   right,   is   not  just,   is   not 

true     to     the     best     that     is     in 

you; 
For  I  know  and  esteem  you,  and  feel 

that  your  nature  is  noble, 
Lifting  mine   up  to  a   higher,  a   more 

ethereal  level. 
Therefore     I     value    your     friendship, 

and     feel     it     perhaps    the     more 

keenly 
If  you  say  aught  that  implies  I  am  only 

as  one  among  many, 
If  you  make  use  of  those  common  and 

complimentary  phrases 
Most  men  think  so  fine,  in  dealing  and 

speaking  with  women, 
But  which  women  reject  as  insipid,  if 

not  as  insulting." 

76 


Miles  Standish  Hr 

Mute  and  amazed  was  Alden;    and 

listened  and  looked  at  Priscilla, 
Thinking  he  never  had  seen  her  more 

fair,  more  divine  in  her  beauty. 
He    who     but     yesterday    pleaded    so 

glibly  the  cause  of  another, 
Stood   there    embarrassed    and    silent, 

and  seeking  in  vain  for  an  answer. 
So    the    maiden    went    on,    and    little 

divined  or  imagined 
What  was  at  work  in  his  heart,  that 

made  him  so  awkward  and  speech 
less. 
"  Let  us,  then,   be  what  we  are,   and 

speak  what  we  think,   and   in   all 

things 
Keep  ourselves  loyal  to  truth,  and  the 

sacred   professions  of  friendship. 
It  is  no  secret   I   tell  you,   nor  am  I 

ashamed  to  declare  it: 

77 


•£H  The  Courtship  of 

I  have  liked  to  be  with  you,  to  see  you, 
to  speak  with  you  always. 

So  I  was  hurt  at  your  words,  and  a 
little  affronted  to  hear  you 

Urge  me  to  marry  your  friend,  though 
he  were  the  Captain  Miles  Stan- 
dish, 

For  I  must  tell  you  the  truth :  much 
more  to  me  is  your  friendship 

Than  all  the  love  he  could  give,  were  he 
twice  the  hero  you  think  him." 

Then  she  extended  her  hand,  and 
Alden,  who  eagerly  grasped  it, 

Felt  all  the  wounds  in  his  heart,  that 
were  aching  and  bleeding  so  sorely, 

Healed  by  the  touch  of  that  hand,  and 
he  said,  with  a  voice  full  of  feel 
ing: 

"  Yes,  we  must  ever  be  friends;    and 

of  all  who  offer  you  friendship 

78 


Miles  Standish  ^ 

Let  me  be  ever  the  first,  the  truest,  the 
nearest  and  dearest!  " 

Casting  a  farewell  look  at  the  glim 
mering  sail  of  the  Mayflower 

Distant,  but  still  in  sight,  and  sinking 
below  the  horizon, 

Homeward  together  they  walked,  with 
a  strange,  indefinite  feeling, 

That  all  the  rest  had  departed  and  left 
them  alone  in  the  desert. 

But,  as  they  went  through  the  fields 
in  the  blessing  and  smile  of  the 
sunshine, 

Lighter  grew  their  hearts,  and  Priscilla 
said  very  archly: 

'  Now  that  our  terrible  Captain  has 
gone  in  pursuit  of  the  Indians, 

Where  he  is  happier  far  than  he  would 
be  commanding  a  household, 

79 


•SK  The  Courtship  of 

You  may  speak  boldly,  and  tell  me  of 
all  that  happened  between  you, 

When  you  returned  last  night,  and 
said  how  ungrateful  you  found 
me." 

Thereupon  answered  John  Alden,  and 
told  her  the  whole  of  the  story,  — 

Told  her  his  own  despair,  and  the  dire 
ful  wrath  of  Miles  Standish. 

Whereat  the  maiden  smiled,  and  said 
between  laughing  and  earnest, 

"  He  is  a  little  chimney,  and  heated 
hot  in  a  moment!  " 

But  as  he  gently  rebuked  her,  and  told 
her  how  he  had  suffered,  — 

How  he  had  even  determined  to  sail 
that  day  in  the  Mayflower, 

And  had  remained  for  her  sake,  on 
hearing  the  dangers  that  threat 
ened,  — 

80 


Miles  Standish  H£ 

All  her  manner  was  changed,  and  she 
said  with  a  faltering  accent, 

"Truly  I  thank  you  for  this:  how 
good  you  have  been  to  me  always!  " 

Thus,  as  a  pilgrim  devout,  who 
toward  Jerusalem  journeys, 

Taking  three  steps  in  advance,  and  one 
reluctantly  backward, 

Urged  by  importunate  zeal,  and  with 
held  by  pangs  of  contrition; 

Slowly  but  steadily  onward,  receding 
yet  ever  advancing, 

Journeyed  this  Puritan  youth  to  the 
Holy  Land  of  his  longings, 

Urged  by  the  fervor  of  love,  and  with 
held  by  remorseful  misgivings. 


81 


The  Courtship  of 


VII 

THE    MARCH    OF    MILES    STANDISH 

TV/TEANWHILE  the  stalwart  Miles 
Standish  was  marching  stead 
ily  northward, 

Winding  through  forest  and  swamp, 
and  along  the  trend  of  the  sea 
shore, 

All  day  long,  with  hardly  a  halt,  the 
fire  of  his  anger 

Burning  and  crackling  within,  and  the 
sulphurous  odor  of  powder 

Seeming  more  sweet  to  his  nostrils 
than  all  the  scents  of  the  forest. 

Silent  and  moody  he  went,  and  much 
he  revolved  his  discomfort; 
82 


Miles  Standish 


He  who  was  used  to  success,  and  to 

easy  victories  always, 
Thus  to  be  flouted,  rejected,  and  laughed 

to  scorn  by  a  maiden, 
Thus  to   be   mocked  and   betrayed   by 

the    friend    whom    most    he    had 

trusted! 
Ah!    'twas  too  much  to  be  borne,  and 

he  fretted  and  chafed  in  his  armor! 

"  I  alone  am  to  blame,"  he  muttered, 

"  for  mine  was  the  folly. 
What  has  a  rough  old  soldier,  grown  «• 

grim  and  gray  in  the  harness, 
Used  to  the  camp  and  its  ways,  to  do 

with  the  wooing  of  maidens  ? 
'Twas   but  a   dream,  —  let   it   pass,  — 

let  it  vanish  like  so  many  others! 
What  I  thought  was  a  flower,  is  only  a 

weed,  and  is  worthless; 

83 


•$H  The  Courtship  of 

Out  of  my  heart  will  I  pluck  it,  and 
throw  it  away,  and  hencefor 
ward 

Be  but  a  fighter  of  battles,  a  lover  and 
wooer  of  dangers." 

Thus  he  revolved  in  his  mind  his  sorry 
defeat  and  discomfort, 

While  he  was  marching  by  day  or 
lying  at  night  in  the  forest, 

Looking  up  at  the  trees  and  the  con 
stellations  beyond  them. 

After  a  three  days'  march  he  came  to 
an  Indian  encampment 

Pitched  on  the  edge  of  a  meadow, 
between  the  sea  and  the  forest; 

Women  at  work  by  the  tents,  and  war 
riors,  horrid  with  war-paint, 

Seated  about  a  fire,  and  smoking  and 
talking  together; 

84 


Miles  Standish  H£ 

Who,   when   they   saw   from   afar   the 

sudden  approach  of  the  white  men, 
Saw  the  flash  of  the  sun  on  breastplate 

and  sabre  and  musket, 
Straightway  leaped   to  their  feet,   and 

two,  from  among  them  advancing, 
Came  to  parley  with  Standish,  and  offer 

him  furs  as  a  present: 
Friendship  was  in  their  looks,   but  in 

their  hearts  there  was  hatred. 
Braves    of  the    tribe   were   these,    and 

brothers,  gigantic  in  stature, 
Huge    as    Goliath    of    Gath,    or    the' 

terrible  Og,  king  of  Bashan; 
One    was    Pecksuot    named,    and    the 

other  was  called  Wattawamat. 
Round  their  necks  were  suspended  their 

knives   in   scabbards  of  wampum, 
Two-edged,     trenchant     knives,     with 

points  as  sharp  as  a  needle. 

85 


•SH  The  Courtship  of 

Other  arms   had   they   none,   for  they 

were  cunning  and  crafty. 
"Welcome,    English!"    they    said, — 

these  wcrds  they  had  learned  from 

the  traders 
Touching    at    times    on    the    coast,    to 

barter  and  chaffer  for  peltries. 
Then  in  their  native  tongue  they  began 

to  parley  with  Standish, 
Through    his    guide    and    interpreter, 

Hobomok,     friend     of    the    white 

man, 
Begging  for  blankets  and   knives,  but 

mostly    for     muskets     and     pow 
der, 
Kept    by    the   white    man,    they    said, 

concealed,  with  the  plague,  in  his 

cellars, 
Ready  to  be  let  loose,  and  destroy  his 

brother  the  red  man! 
86 


Miles  Standish  ££ 

( 
But  when  Standish  refused,  and  said 

he  would  give  them  the  Bible, 
Suddenly    changing    their    tone,    they 

began  to  boast  and  to  bluster. 
Then    Wattawamat    advanced    with    a 

stride  in  front  of  the  other, 
And,    with    a    lofty    demeanor,    thus 

vauntingly  spake  to  the  Captain: 
"  Now   Wattawamat    can    see,    by   the 

fiery  eyes  of  the  Captain, 
Angry  is  he  in  his  heart;   but  the  heart 

of  the  brave  Wattawamat 
Is  not  afraid  at  the  sight.     He  was  not 

born  of  a  woman, 
But  on  a  mountain,  at  night,  from  an 

oak-tree  riven  by  lightning, 
Forth  he  sprang  at  a  bound,  with  all 

his  weapons  about  him, 
Shouting,  '  Who  is  there  here  to  fight 

with  the  brave  Wattawamat  ? ' 

87 


7/4  The  Courtship  of 

Then    he    unsheathed    his    knife,    and, 

whetting    the    blade    on    his    left 

hand, 
Held  it  aloft  and  displayed  a  woman's 

face  on  the  handle, 
Saying,  with  bitter  expression  and  look 

of  sinister  meaning: 
"  I  have  another  at  home,  with  the  face 

of  a  man  on  the  handle; 
By  and  by  they  shall  marry;   and  there 

will  be  plenty  of  children!  " 

Then     stood     Pecksuot     forth,     self- 
vaunting,  insulting  Miles  Standish; 
While  with   his   fingers   he   patted   the 

knife  that  hung  at  his  bosom, 
Drawing  it   half  from   its   sheath,  and 
plunging  it  back,  as  he  muttered, 
"  By  and  by  it  shall  see;    it  shall  eat; 
ah,  ha!    but  shall  speak  not! 
83 


Miles  Standish  H£ 

This  is  the  mighty  Captain  the  white 
men  have  sent  to  destroy  us! 

He  is  a  little  man;  let  him  go  and  work 
with  the  women!  " 


Meanwhile  Standish   had  noted   the 
faces  and  figures  of  Indians 

Peeping  and  creeping  about  from  bush 
to  tree  in  the  forest, 

Feigning  to  look  for  game,  with  arrows 
set  on  their  bow-strings, 

Drawing    about    him    still    closer    and 
closer  the  net  of  their  ambush. 

But  undaunted  he  stood,  and  dissem 
bled  and  treated  them  smoothly; 

So   the   old   chronicles    say,   that   were 
writ  in  the  days  of  the  fathers. 

But  when  he  heard  their  defiance,  the 
boast,  the  taunt  and  the  insult, 
89 


•yH  The  Courtship  of 

All  the  hot  blood  of  his  race,  of  Sir 
Hugh  and  of  Thurston  de  Standish, 

Boiled  and  beat  in  his  heart,  and  swelled 
in  the  veins  of  his  temples. 

Headlong  he  leaped  on  the  boaster,  and, 
snatching  his  knife  from  its  scab 
bard, 

Plunged  it  into  his  heart,  and,  reeling 
backward,  the  savage 

Fell  with  his  face  to  the  sky,  and  a 
fiendlike  fierceness  upon  it. 

Straight  there  arose  from  the  forest 
the  awful  sound  of  the  war- 
whoop, 

And,  like  a  flurry  of  snow  on  the 
whistling  wind  of  December, 

Swift  and  sudden  and  keen  came  a 
flight  of  feathery  arrows. 

Then  came  a  cloud  of  smoke,  and  out 
of  the  cloud  came  the  lightning, 
90 


Miles  Standish  H£ 

Out  of  the  lightning  thunder;  and  death 

unseen  ran  before  it. 
Frightened  the  savages  fled  for  shelter 

in  swamp  and  in  thicket, 
Hotly    pursued    and    beset;     but    their 

sachem,  the  brave  Wattawamat, 
Fled  not;    he  was  dead.     Unswerving 

and  swift  had  a  bullet 
Passed  through  his  brain,  and  he  fell 

with     both     hands    clutching    the 

greensward, 
Seeming  in  death  to  hold  back  from  his 

foe  the  land  of  his  fathers. 

There  on  the  flowers  of  the  meadow 
the  warriors  lay,  and  above  them, 

Silent,  with  folded  arms,  stood  Hobo- 
mok,  friend  of  the  white  man. 

Smiling  at  length  he  exclaimed  to  the 
stalwart  Captain  of  Plymouth: 


•SH  The  Courtship  of 

"  Pecksuot   bragged  very  loud,  of  his 

courage,     his     strength     and     his 

stature,  — 
Mocked  the  great  Captain,  and  called 

him  a  little  man;    but  I  see  now 
Big  enough  have  you  been  to  lay  him 

speechless  before  you!  " 

Thus    the    first    battle    was    fought 

and   won    by    the    stalwart    Miles 

Standish. 
When  the  tidings  thereof  were  brought 

to  the  village  of  Plymouth, 
And  as  a  trophy  of  war  the  head  of  the 

brave  Wattawamat 
Scowled    from    the    roof    of  the    fort, 

which  at  once  was  a  church  and  a 

fortress, 
All  who  beheld  it  rejoiced,  and  praised 

the  Lord,  and  took  courage. 
92 


Miles  Standish  H£ 

Only   Priscilla   averted   her  face   from 

this  spectre  of  terror, 
Thanking  God  in  her  heart  that  she 

had  not  married  Miles  Standish; 
Shrinking,  fearing  almost,  lest,  coming 

home  from  his  battles, 
He  should  lay  claim  to  her  hand,   as 

the  prize  and  reward  of  his  valor. 


93 


The  Courtship  of 


VIII 

THE    SPINNING-WHEEL 

TVyTONTH  after  month  passed  away, 
and  in  autumn  the  ships  ot 
the  merchants 

Came  with  kindred  and  friends,  with 
cattle  and  corn  for  the  Pilgrims. 

All  in  the  village  was  peace;  the  men 
were  intent  on  their  labors, 

Busy  with  hewing  and  building,  with 
garden-plot  and  with  merestead, 

Busy  with  breaking  the  glebe,  and 
mowing  the  grass  in  the  mead 
ows, 

Searching  the  sea  for  its  fish,  and 
hunting  the  deer  in  the  forest. 

94 


Miles  Standish  Hr 

All  in  the  village  was   peace;    but  at 

times  the  rumor  of  warfare 
Filled    the    air    with    alarm,    and    the 

apprehension  of  danger. 
Bravely    the     stalwart     Standish    was 

scouring     the      land      with      his 

forces, 
Waxing  valiant  in  fight  and  defeating 

the  alien  armies, 
Till  his  name  had  become  a  sound  of 

fear  to  the  nations. 
Anger  was    still    in    his    heart,  but   at 

times    the     remorse    and    contri 
tion 
Which  in  nobler  natures  succeed  the 

passionate  outbreak, 
Came  like  a  rising  tide,  that  encounters 

the  rush  of  a  river, 
Staying  its  current  awhile,  but  making 

it  bitter  and  brackish. 

95 


•£H  The  Courtship  of 

Meanwhile  Alden  at  home  had  built 
him  a  new  habitation, 

Solid,    substantial,    of    timber    rough- 
hewn  from  the  firs  of  the  forest. 

Wooden-barred  was  the  door,  and  the 
roof  was  covered  with  rushes; 

Latticed   the   windows   were,   and   the 
window-panes  were  of  paper, 

Oiled  to  admit  the  light,  while  wind 
and  rain  were  excluded. 

There  too  he  dug  a  well,  and  around  it 
planted  an  orchard: 

Still  may  be  seen  to  this  day  some  trace 
of  the  well  and  the  orchard. 

Close  to  the  house  was  the  stall,  where, 
safe  and  secure  from  annoyance, 

Raghorn,  the  snow-white  bull,  that  had 
fallen  to  Alden's  allotment 

In  the  division  of  cattle,  might  rumi 
nate  in  the  night-time 
96 


Miles  Standish  H£ 

Over  the   pastures   he   cropped,   made 
fragrant  by  sweet  pennyroyal. 


Oft  when  his  labor  was  finished,  with 

eager  feet  would  the  dreamer 
Follow  the  pathway  that  ran  through 

the  woods  to  the  house  of  Priscilla, 
Led  by  illusions  romantic  and  subtile 

deceptions  of  fancy, 
Pleasure  disguised  as  duty,  and  love  in 

the  semblance  of  friendship. 
Ever    of    her    he    thought,    when    he 

fashioned  the  walls  of  his  dwelling; 
Ever  of  her  he  thought,  when  he  delved 

in  the  soil  of  his  garden; 
Ever  of  her  he  thought,  when  he  read 

in  his  Bible  on  Sunday 
Praise  of  the  virtuous  woman,  as  she 

is  described  in  the  Proverbs,  — 

97 


£H  The  Courtship  of 

How   the   heart   of  her  husband   doth 

safely  trust  in  her  always, 
How  all  the  days  of  her  life  she  will 

do  him  good,  and  not  evil, 
How  she  seeketh  the  wool  and  the  flax 

and  worketh  with  gladness, 
How  she  layeth  her  hand  to  the  spindle 

and  holdeth  the  distaff, 
How  she  is  not  afraid  of  the  snow  for 

herself  or  her  household, 
Knowing    her    household    are    clothed 

with     the     scarlet     cloth     of    her 

weaving! 

So  as  she  sat  at  her  wheel  one  after 
noon  in  the  Autumn, 
Alden,  who  opposite  sat,  and  was  watch 
ing  her  dexterous  fingers, 
As  if  the  thread  she  was  spinning  were 
that  of  his  life  and  his  fortune, 
98 


Miles  Standish  H£ 

After  a  pause  in  their  talk,  thus  spake 

to  the  sound  of  the  spindle. 
"  Truly,   Priscilla,"  he   said,  "  when   I 

see  you  spinning  and  spinning, 
Never  idle  a  moment,  but  thrifty  and 

thoughtful  of  others, 
Suddenly    you    are    transformed,    are 

visibly  changed  in  a  moment; 
You  are  no  longer  Priscilla,  but  Bertha 

the  Beautiful  Spinner." 
Here  the  light  foot  on  the  treadle  grew 

swifter  and  swifter;   the  spindle 
Uttered  an  angry  snarl,  and  the  thread 

snapped  short  in  her  fingers; 
While  the  impetuous  speaker,  not  heed 
ing  the  mischief,  continued: 
"  You    are    the    beautiful    Bertha,   the 

spinner,  the  queen  of  Helvetia; 
She  whose  story  I  read  at  a  stall  in  the 

streets  of  Southampton, 

99 


•£H  The  Courtship  of 

Who,  as  she  rode  on  her  palfrey,  o'er 

valley    and    meadow    and    moun 
tain, 
Ever  was  spinning  her  thread  from  a 

distaff  fixed  to  her  saddle. 
She  was  so  thrifty  and  good,  that  her 

name  passed  into  a  proverb. 
So  shall  it  be  with  your  own,  when  the 

spinning-wheel  shall  no  longer 
Hum  in  the  house  of  the  farmer,  and 

fill  its  chambers  with  music. 
Then    shall    the    mothers,    reproving, 

relate  how  it  was  in  their  childhood, 
Praising  the  good    old   times,  and   the 

days  of  Priscilla  the  spinner!  " 
Straight    uprose    from    her   wheel    the 

beautiful  Puritan  maiden, 
Pleased   with   the   praise  of  her  thrift 

from    him   whose    praise   was   the 

sweetest, 

100 


Miles  Standish  H£ 

Drew   from   the    reel    on    the    table   a 

snowy  skein  of  her  spinning, 
Thus    making    answer,    meanwhile,    to 

the  flattering  phrases  of  Alden: 
"  Come,  you  must  not  be  idle;   if  I  am 

a  pattern  for  housewives, 
Show  yourself  equally  worthy  of  being 

the  model  of  husbands. 
Hold  this  skein  on  your  hands,  while  I 

wind  it,  ready  for  knitting; 
Then  who  knows  but  hereafter,  when 

fashions    have    changed    and    the 

manners, 
Fathers  may  talk  to  their  sons  of  the 

good  old  times  of  John  Alden!  " 
Thus,   with    a   jest   and    a    laugh,   the 

skein     on      his     hands     she     ad 
justed, 
He   sitting  awkwardly  there,  with   his 

arms  extended  before  him. 
101 


$H  The  Courtship  of 

She  standing  graceful,  erect,  and  wind 
ing  the  thread  from  his  fingers, 

Sometimes  chiding  a  little  his  clumsy 
manner  of  holding, 

Sometimes  touching  his  hands,  as  she 
disentangled  expertly 

Twist  or  knot  in  the  yarn,  unawares  — 
for  how  could  she  help  it  ?  — 

Sending  electrical  thrills  through  every 
nerve  in  his  body. 

Lo!    in   the   midst  of  this   scene,   a 

breathless  messenger  entered, 
Bringing  in  hurry  and  heat  the  terrible 

news  from  the  village. 
Yes;    Miles  Standish   was  dead!  —  an 

Indian     had     brought     them     the 

tidings,  — 
Slain  by  a  poisoned  arrow,  shot  down 

in  the  front  of  the  battle, 
102 


Miles  Standish  H£ 

Into  an  ambush  beguiled,  cut  off  with 

the  whole  of  his  forces; 
All  the  town  would  be  burned,  and  all 

the  people  be  murdered! 
Such  were  the  tidings  of  evil  that  burst 

on  the  hearts  of  the  hearers. 
Silent   and   statue-like   stood    Priscilla, 

her  face  looking  backward 
Still    at   the   face   of  the   speaker,   her 

arms  uplifted  in  horror; 
But  John  Alden,  upstarting,  as  if  the 

barb  of  the  arrow 
Piercing  the   heart   of  his   friend   had 

struck  his  own,  and  had  sundered 
Once  and  forever  the  bonds  that  held 

him  bound  as  a  captive, 
Wild  with  excess  of  sensation,  the  awful 

delight  of  his  freedom, 
Mingled    with    pain    and    regret,    un 
conscious  of  what  he  was  doing, 
103 


£H  The  Courtship  of 

Clasped,  almost  with  a  groan,  the 
motionless  form  of  Priscilla, 

Pressing  her  close  to  his  heart,  as 
forever  his  own,  and  exclaiming: 

'  Those  whom  the  Lord  hath  united, 
let  no  man  put  them  asunder!  " 


Even  as  rivulets  twain,  from  distant 

and  separate  sources. 
Seeing  each   other   afar,   as   they   leap 

from  the  rocks,  and  pursuing 
Each  one  its  devious  path,  but  drawing 

nearer  and  nearer, 
Rush  together  at  last,  at  their  trysting- 

place  in  the  forest; 
So  these   lives  that  had   run   thus  tar 

in  separate  channels, 
Coming   in    sight   of  each   other,   then 

swerving  and  flowing  asunder, 
104 


Miles  Standish  H£ 

Parted  by  barriers  strong,  but  drawing 

nearer  and  nearer, 
Rushed  together  at  last,  and  one  was 

lost  in  the  other. 


105 


The  Courtship  of 


IX 

THE    WEDDING-DAY 

"T^ORTH  from  the  curtain  of  clouds, 
from  the  tent  of  purple  and 
scarlet, 

Issued  the  sun,  the  great  High- 
Priest,  in  his  garments  resplen 
dent, 

Holiness  unto  the  Lord,  in  letters  of 
light,  on  his  forehead, 

Round  the  hem  of  his  robe  the  golden 
bells  and  pomegranates. 

Blessing  the  world  he  came,  and  the 
bars  of  vapor  beneath  him 

Gleamed  like  a  grate  of  brass,  and 
the  sea  at  his  feet  was  a 
laver! 

106 


Miles  Standish  H£ 

This    was    the    wedding    morn    of 
Priscilla  the  Puritan  maiden. 

Friends  were  assembled  together;  the 
Elder  and  Magistrate  also 

Graced  the  scene  with  their  presence, 
and  stood  like  the  Law  and  the 
Gospel, 

One  with  the  sanction  of  earth  and  one 
with  the  blessing  of  heaven. 

Simple  and  brief  was  the  wedding  as 
that  of  Ruth  and  of  Boaz. 

Softly  the  youth  and  the  maiden 
repeated  the  words  of  be 
trothal, 

Taking  each  other  for  husband  and  wife 
in  the  Magistrate's  presence, 

After  the  Puritan  way,  and  the  laudable 
custom  of  Holland. 

Fervently  then  and  devoutly,  the  excel 
lent  Elder  of  Plymouth 
107 


•$H  The  Courtship  of 

Prayed  for  the  hearth  and  the  home,  that 
were  founded  that  day  in  affection, 

Speaking  of  life  and  of  death,  and 
imploring  Divine  benedictions. 


Lo!    when  the  service  was  ended,  a 

form  appeared  on  the  threshold, 
Clad  in  armor  of  steel,  a  sombre  and 

sorrowful  figure! 
Why   does   the    bridegroom    start    and 

stare  at  the  strange  apparition  ? 
Why  does  the  bride  turn  pale,  and  hide 

her  face  on  his  shoulder  ? 
Is  it  a   phantom  of  air,  —  a   bodiless, 

spectral  illusion  ? 
Is  it  a  ghost  from  the  grave,  that  has 

come  to  forbid  the  betrothal  ? 
Long  had  it  stood  there  unseen,  a  guest 

uninvited,  unwelcomed; 
108 


Miles  Standish  H£ 

Over  its  clouded  eyes  there  had  passed 

at  times  an  expression 
Softening  the  gloom  and  revealing  the 

warm  heart  hidden  beneath  them, 
As   when    across   the    sky   the    driving 

rack  of  the  rain  cloud 
Grows  for  a  moment  thin,  and  betrays 

the  sun  by  its  brightness. 
Once  it  had  lifted  its  hand,  and  moved 

its  lips,  but  was  silent, 
As  if  an  iron  will   had   mastered  the 

fleeting  intention, 
But  when  were  ended  the  troth  and  the 

prayer  and  the  last  benediction, 
Into  the  room  it  strode,  and  the  people 

beheld  with  amazement 
Bodily  there  in  his  armor  Miles  Stan- 
dish,  the  Captain  of  Plymouth! 
Grasping   the    bridegroom's    hand,    he 

said  with  emotion,  "  Forgive  me! 
109 


£H  The  Courtship  of 

I  have  been  angry  and  hurt,  —  too  long 

have  I  cherished  the  feeling; 
I  have  been  cruel  and  hard,  but  now, 

thank  God!   it  is  ended. 
Mine  is  the  same  hot  blood  that  leaped 

in  the  veins  of  Hugh  Standish, 
Sensitive,  swift  to  resent,  but  as  swift 

in  atoning  for  error. 
Never    so    much    as    now    was    Miles 

Standish  the  friend  of  John  Alden." 
Thereupon   answered   the    bridegroom: 

"  Let  all  be  forgotten  between  us,  — 
All  save  the  dear  old   friendship,   and 

that  shall  grow  older  and  dearer!  " 
Then     the     Captain    advanced,    and, 

bowing,  saluted   Priscilla, 
Gravely,  and  after  the  manner  of  old- 
fashioned  gentry  in  England, 
Something  of  camp   and   of  court,   of 

town  and  of  country,  commingled, 
no 


Miles  Standish  g& 

Wishing  her  joy  of  her  wedding,  and 

loudly  lauding  her  husband. 
Then  he  said  with  a  smile:    "  I  should 

have  remembered  the  adage,  — 
If  you  would  be  well  served,  you  must 

serve  yourself;   and  moreover, 
No  man  can  gather  cherries  in   Kent 

at  the  season  of  Christmas'  " 

Great  was  the  people's  amazement, 
and  greater  yet  their  rejoicing 

Thus  to  behold  once  more  the  sunburnt 
face  of  their  Captain, 

Whom  they  had  mourned  as  dead; 
and  they  gathered  and  crowded 
about  him, 

Eager  to  see  him  and  hear  him,  forget 
ful  of  bride  and  of  bridegroom, 

Questioning,  answering,  laughing,  and 
each  interrupting  the  other, 
in 


•£H  The  Courtship  of 

Till  the  good  Captain  declared,  being 
quite  overpowered  and  bewildered, 

lie  had  rather  by  far  break  into  an 
Indian  encampment, 

Than  come  again  to  a  wedding  to  which 
he  had  not  been  invited. 


Meanwhile  the  bridegroom  went  forth 
and  stood  with  the  bride  at  the 
doorway, 

Breathing  the  perfumed  air  of  that 
warm  and  beautiful  morning. 

Touched  with  autumnal  tints,  but 
lonely  and  sad  in  the  sunshine, 

Lay  extended  before  them  the  land  of 
toil  and  privation; 

There  were  the  graves  of  the  dead, 
and  the  barren  waste  of  the  sea 
shore, 

112 


Miles  Standish  H£ 

There  the  familiar  fields,  the  groves  of 

pine,  and  the  meadows; 
But  to  their  eyes  transfigured,  it  seemed 

as  the  Garden  of  Eden, 
Filled  with  the  presence  of  God,  whose 

voice  was  the  sound  of  the  ocean. 


Soon  was  their  vision  disturbed  by 
the  noise  and  stir  of  departure, 

Friends  coming  forth  from  the  house, 
and  impatient  of  longer  delaying, 

Each  with  his  plan  for  the  day,  and  the 
work  that  was  left  uncompleted. 

Then  from  a  stall  near  at  hand,  amid 
exclamations  of  wonder, 

Alden  the  thoughtful,  the  careful,  so 
happy,  so  proud  of  Priscilla, 

Brought  out  his  snow-white  bull,  obey 
ing  the  hand  of  its  master, 

"3 


•£H  The  Courtship  of 

Led  by  a  cord  that  was  tied  to  an  iron 
ring  in  its  nostrils, 

Covered  with  crimson  cloth,  and  a 
cushion  placed  for  a  saddle. 

She  should  not  walk,  he  said,  through 
the  dust  and  heat  of  the  noon 
day; 

Nay,  she  should  ride  like  a  queen,  not 
plod  along  like  a  peasant. 

Somewhat  alarmed  at  first,  but  reas 
sured  by  the  others, 

Placing  her  hand  on  the  cushion,  her 
foot  in  the  hand  of  her  hus 
band, 

Gayly,    with    joyous    laugh,    Priscilla 

mounted  her  palfrey. 
'  Nothing   is   wanting   now,"   he   said 
with  a  smile,  "  but  the  distaff; 

Then  you  would  be  in  truth  my  queen, 
my  beautiful  Bertha!  " 
114 


Miles  Standish  H£ 

Onward   the   bridal   procession   now 

moved  to  their  new  habitation. 
Happy  husband  and  wife,  and  friends 

conversing  together. 
Pleasantly    murmured    the    brook,    as 

they    crossed     the     ford     in     the 

forest, 
Pleased  with  the  image  that  passed,  like 

a  dream  of  love  from  its  bosom, 
Tremulous-floating    in     air,    o'er    the 

depths  of  the  azure  abysses. 
Down  through   the   golden   leaves  the 

sun  was  pouring  his  splendors, 
Gleaming  on  purple  grapes,  that,  from 

branches   above   them   suspended, 
Mingled    their    odorous     breath    with 

the  balm  of  the  pine  and  the  fir- 
tree, 
Wild  and  sweet  as  the  clusters  that  grew 

in  the  valley  of  Eshcol. 

"5 


•SK  The  Courtship  of  Miles  Standish 

Like  a  picture  it  seemed  of  the  primi 
tive,  pastoral  ages, 

Fresh  with  the  youth  of  the  world,  and 
recalling  Rebecca  and  Isaac, 

Old  and  yet  ever  new,  and  simple  and 
beautiful  always, 

Love  immortal  and  young  in  the  endless 
succession  of  lovers. 

So  through  the  Plymouth  woods  passed 
onward  the  bridal  procession. 


THE    END. 


116 


409S5 


A     000  711  704     7 


